“Why, I told you so,” cried one of the men. “I felt sure I heard something out to our left among the trees hours ago.”
“What?” cried Mr Raydon; “did you not open out your men in line?”
“Far as we could,” said Barker, gruffly. “It’s so thick down below we couldn’t get along.”
“Man!” cried Mr Raydon, “they’ve been too sharp for you, and let you pass. Why—oh, good heavens! they must have known of our plans. They’ll have stolen out at the mouth of the valley, gone up, and taken the Fort.”
A dead silence reigned for a few minutes, as Mr Raydon stood thinking. Then suddenly—
“We did not give them credit for being so sharp as they are,” he continued. “Here, forward all of you, back to the river. I hope my fears are wrong.”
“Hadn’t we better go your way?” said Barker. “The forest is frightfully thick below, and it will take us hours.”
“The way we came will take twice as long,” said Mr Raydon, sternly; “and it is one fearful climb right up into the mountain. We must go this way. Follow as quickly as possible. There will be no need to keep a look-out now.”
The men mustered up without a word, and with Mr Raydon and Barker leading, we tramped on as fast as we could, but making very poor progress during the next hour, for all were growing hot and exhausted, and the labour was really terrible. But they pressed on in silence, while Mr Raydon and Barker talked together rather bitterly about the ill success of the expedition.
We must have been walking about two hours when—